Anniversary
by Thomas Mc
Summary: Vincent risks much and pushes some of his own boundaries to help Catherine deal with an emotional crisis
1. Melancholy

**Anniversary  
**_By Thomas Mc_**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 1 : Melancholy**

Vincent awoke to a disorienting complex jumble of emotions with a hint of _melancholy_ overlaying the gestalt. He quickly realized that it was coming from Catherine. He had felt this combination from her before and he knew the cause. Being able to sense the emotions of those around him and blessed with a very keen sense of smell and hearing, he had been aware of this particular aspect of the human condition from childhood. He had often heard Father euphemistically refer to it as 'that time of the month', and most of the females in the tunnels, above a certain age, suffered from it.

Vincent figured that he would have to come up with some plausible excuse to visit her balcony tonight so that he could be there for her. Though her moods could be highly mercurial and, once in a while, just plane unpleasant, during these times, his visits always seemed to make her feel better. He sometimes wondered if she was aware of his peculiarly convenient timing on these occasions. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and began preparing for another day.

Vincent stared for a moment into the mirror at his peculiarly unique leonine visage. For most of his life, his appearance had been a source of pain and sorrow. The beast, the creature, the fearsome monster, the half lion, less than a man. Only down here in the tunnels was he accepted, mostly by ignoring his differences. Then Catherine had come along and changed his world. She had seen him for what he was, all of him, the good and the bad, and had accepted, even loved him. He turned away from the small mirror and began getting dressed.

While he had been dressing, he had sensed another familiar presence just outside his chamber and smiled. Once he was ready to face the day, Vincent pulled back the tapestry covering his doorway to find little five year old Naomi sitting on the tunnel floor near his chamber looking down at the children's picture book in her lap. Catherine had given her that book a couple of weeks after she had come to live in the tunnels. It was the only thing Naomi had that she could truly call her own. Everything else had been lost when the rest of her family had been killed.

That was six weeks ago and she had just gotten out of her temporary cast last week. In the last four weeks since she had become able to get around on her own, Vincent often found her waiting outside his chamber to have breakfast with her favorite guardian monster (her own description). She was the only one who could make Vincent smile by calling him her monster. He remembered how Catherine had cringed the first time she heard it. It was only after hearing Vincent's laughter at Naomi's bestowed title that she had relaxed to it.

Closing her book, Naomi looked up and her face lit up with a smile that put the sun to shame. Vincent grinned wide enough to show his fangs (something he very rarely did) reached down and picked her up. Already his mood was much improved. This little girl had touched his heart in a way that he could not define. Only Catherine could touch him as deeply as Naomi had. He gazed into her blue-gray eyes as he spoke. "I'm hungry and you are just too scrawny to eat. What do you say we see what William has for us, maybe fatten you up?"

Naomi giggled at their morning ritual as she threw her arms around his neck in a hug. Vincent started off toward the dining chamber at a brisk walk. It was nearly impossible for him to feel down when Naomi was around. Father often joked that Vincent was awfully big to be so tightly wrapped around such a tiny little finger.

~ o ~

The morning Literature class had gone well and Vincent had been pleased at how Naomi had been fully engaged with the class. After class, Naomi had gone off to play with the other children and Vincent had ended up in Father's study playing a game of chess. For once, there were no emergencies, no unfinished chores, and no important issues to be resolved. The rest of the day was free.

"You seem to be a bit distracted." Father interrupted Vincent's train of thought.

Vincent looked up at father then down at the chessboard. How had he gotten himself into this predicament? Father had his king trapped with very few options left open for him. Father was right; he was distracted. All day long, he had felt the _melancholy_ growing in Catherine and it worried him. What could be causing it? Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice told him that there was something oddly familiar about Catherine's current state of mind, and it was not due to the other cause that he had sensed this morning. There was defiantly some other factor at work here.

Shaking his head, Vincent forced himself to concentrate on the game. After a minute, he shifted his rook. It was a sacrifice but it would open up some more options for him in two or three moves if he planned this right.

~ o ~

About twenty hard fought moves later, the game ended in a stalemate. Father was very pleased with himself. Vincent merely smiled. It was so rare that Father was able to beat him at this game.

Vincent stretched then frowned. He had been concentrating so hard on the game that he had almost blocked out his sense of the bond. Now the link had reasserted itself in his awareness and the _melancholy_ that he felt from Catherine was much stronger. There was also a strong streak of deep _sorrow_ mixed in with it. What could possibly be wrong?

Several of the tunnel kids entered the library at that point. Geoffrey seemed to be the leader and spoke for them. "Father, we were wondering if we can go to the new 'Shakespeare in the Park' play his weekend?"

Father looked at them in surprise. "Is it time for that again already?" Then he glanced over at a battered calendar that was hanging off one of the shelves. "Well, well, it seems that it is that time again." He appeared to be deep in thought as he scowled at the children. "I don't believe there are any pressing chores or projects tomorrow. I supposed that it can be allowed."

Vincent glanced at the calendar as the children cheered. After a moment, the date fairly leaped out at him and he knew what was wrong with Catherine and why it had seemed so familiar. "Father I have to go." He remarked as he practically bolted from the library chamber.

Father looked again at the calendar, trying to discern what it was that had galvanized Vincent like that. Whatever Vincent had seen, eluded him. He finally shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to the children.

About eight minutes later an urgent message from one of the sentries raced along the pipes. Vincent had been seen heading towards the surface near Catherine's building at a dead run. Father glanced at the ancient pendulum clock that sat on one of the shelves in his library. It was one of the very few things that he had been able to retain from happier times, before he had been driven below. It had once belonged to his father and had been given to him by a helper that owned a pawnshop and had recognized the name, that still remained engraved, in the bottom of the clock.

It was fifteen after seven; over an hour and a half until sundown. Father felt his blood run cold at the thought of the danger to Vincent. What could be driving that boy to do something so foolish as going above well before dark, and why Catherine's place. Father looked again at the calendar, then understanding dawned and suddenly his heart went out to both of them as he remembered what had happened a year ago. Today was the anniversary of her mother's death and this time she didn't even have her father to turn to.

~ o ~

Vincent crouched on the edge of the roof of Catherine's building, feeling dangerously exposed in the still bright western sun. He had grabbed the light gray cloak, which was a close match to the stone sides of the building. The side of the building facing the park was now in shadow, but anyone really looking would still be able to see him when he started down. With a deep breath, he slipped over the side and rapidly made his way down to the eighteenth floor.

Vincent landed lightly on Catherine's balcony. His keen sense of hearing detected no hue and cry and he felt the attention of no presences. So far so good. He had dared to push his luck beyond reasonable odds and so far had won. Through the glass doors, he could hear the music coming from her stereo. The music sounded almost as melancholy as the emotions coming from her. This was more serious than he had realized.

With cat like grace, he moved along her balcony past the bedroom doors to the parlor doors and peered in through the sheer curtains that covered the glass French doors. He spotted Catherine over by the parlor fireplace, where their bond had told him she would be. Catherine was sitting on the floor before her fireplace, her back to the balcony with her legs tucked beneath her. There were several photo albums scattered on the floor in front of her, and he could feel the _sorrow_ rolling off of her in waves.

Vincent reached up to tap on the glass then, without understanding why, he hesitated. Almost without conscious choice, he grabbed the door handle and, testing it, felt it turn. Without even being aware of what he was doing, he quietly opened the French doors and soon found himself standing indecisively in the open doorway. Why had he done that? Only once before had he let himself into her apartment and that had been under very unusual circumstances. Catherine was still unaware of his presence as he heard a deep sigh followed by a half sob and a sniffle escape from her.

He was frozen by his own conflicting emotions. He had never been able to bring himself to actually enter her apartment except for that one time of great need when those rogue cops had beaten her up. He had always felt that entering the privacy of her home would be the equivalent of crossing a threshold in their relationship that he did not feel himself worthy of crossing. But he could feel her need and it was great. The _sorrow_ and _pain_ radiating from her was almost overwhelming.

With great effort, he worked himself up to the task and forced himself to pass through the doorway. As he approached her, unmoving and still unaware body, his sense of smell confirmed this morning's diagnoses of her physical state, as his sense of her emotions confirmed her desperate need for comfort.

He draped his cloak across the nearest chair then he quietly moved up behind her and stood looking down on her small sad form for a few seconds. She had her arms crossed as though trying to hold herself together. She was dressed in a simple pale blue satin nightgown and a yellow light cotton bathrobe. Vincent knew, from the time he had tended to her after the rogue cops attacked, that both items had once belonged to her mother. The photo albums were all displaying pictures of a pretty little girl with a woman that bore a very strong resemblance to Catherine.

His need to comfort her rose up to meet the _need for comfort_ that he sensed in her as Vincent finally knelt down behind her placing one hand on her upper arm, just above where her own hand rested, while he softly said her name. "Catherine?"

Without a word, she grabbed his hand and pulled his arm across her chest while leaning back into his warm chest. Then with another sob, the tears began to flow freely. He put his other arm around her waist and, for over an hour, he quietly held her as the sorrow flowed out of her with her tears to soak into the sleeves of his shirt and into the compassionate recesses of his heart. He caressed the top of her head with his cheek as he drew her _sadness_ out of her and into himself.

Finally, she drifted off to sleep. For another half-hour, he held her sleeping form. He knew what he needed to do, but it would mean crossing another threshold; breaking another self-imposed barrier. Finally, he stood up carrying her sleeping form and he reluctantly passed through the doorway and entered her bedroom. There he gently laid her down on her bed.

Vincent brushed back her hair and gazed a moment at her sleeping face then with a sigh turned to leave. He paused as he felt the gentle touch of her hand on his forearm. "Please, don't go." She begged.

He turned back around and as she pulled at him, he reluctantly sat down on her bed. Her shimmering eyes looked up at him; the need in them was just as strong as the _need_ he felt from her over the bond. "Hold me?"

He was unable to deny her request so he stretched out into a more comfortable position and wrapped his arms around her. He was acutely aware that he was now lying beside Catherine in her own bed. An invasion of her barriers that he had felt he could never do. With a contented sigh, she snuggled in close against him and wrapped her arm across his chest.

Vincent felt the _melancholy_ within her beginning to melt away as an embarrassed warmth spread through him. He could still feel the _need_ for his comfort coursing through her over their bond, so he allowed himself to relax and grant her his physical presence that she so desperately needed right now.

_**Continued in Part 2**_

* * *

'**Beauty and the Beast'** and its characters are owned by Witt-Thomas Productions and Republic Pictures. No infringement on copyrights is intended. This story is presented merely for the enjoyment of fans. Original concepts and story elements may be used by other authors as long as appropriate credit is given.


	2. Friendship

**Anniversary**

**by Thomas Mc**

* * *

**Chapter 2 : Friendship**

Vincent awoke to the warmth and brightness of the sun on his face. He was startled and disoriented. Where was he? The first thing he noticed was the morning sun streaming in through the sheer curtains across the French doors. The sun was already high in the sky so it was pretty late. Then he became aware of Catherine's emerald green eyes, still slightly red rimmed from yesterday's tears, gazing into his. Over their bond, he could feel that the sorrow of yesterday was gone. There was even a hint of _contented happiness_ but the _melancholy_ was still hovering around the edges waiting to return.

"Thank you for staying with me last night. I don't know if I could have made it through without you." Her smile had a hint of sadness in it. "It's already daylight. I'm afraid that you are going to be trapped here with me until nightfall." Then her eyes got wide. "Oh, my. I have to take care of something." She quickly untangled herself, scrambled out of her bed, and made a dash for the bathroom.

Vincent jumped up out of Catherine's bed, (like a scalded cat), and nearly ran for her parlor. He was very uncomfortable about being in her apartment, much less her bedroom, or even more embarrassing, in her bed. He glanced out her balcony doors. She was right about him being trapped. He paced back and forth in her parlor like a caged lion for a couple of minutes then he realized that Father would probably be very worried about him by now.

Vincent spotted Catherine's phone and approached it. He never had occasion to use a telephone but he knew how it worked. He was searching his memory of all the helpers he knew, trying to find any phone numbers that he might have known. He came up empty. He was glancing around looking for a phone book when the phone rang. Vincent started to reach out for it but hesitated. It rang again. Vincent still hesitated. Catherine was still in the bathroom. It rang a third time. As an act of will he picked it up but said nothing.

"Hello? Catherine, are you there? Hello?" The voice was startling in its familiarity.

"Father? Is that you?" Vincent finally responded.

"Vincent, thank God. I was so worried about you and I came above to Edward's market to call Catherine for help finding you." There was a momentary pause. "Why are you still there?" Vincent could clearly hear both the relief and the scold in Father's voice.

"I'm sorry Father but Catherine needed me." Vincent answered simply. "I'm afraid I stayed too long and fell asleep. I can't leave here during daylight but I will return right after sunset . . . unless Catherine still needs me."

At the other end of the line, Father cleared his throat, surprised at the way Vincent had phrased his response. "Well, I suppose there is no way you can return right now, but please be very careful, my boy and come home as soon as you can."

"I will Father, I promise." Vincent set the phone back in the cradle and turned to see Catherine, still in the same nightgown and bathrobe, standing in the bedroom door watching him. "Father was worried about me." He remarked. "He was calling to get your help to find me." He shrugged.

"Why don't I fix us some breakfast?" Catherine remarked and headed for the apartment's tiny kitchen.

~ o ~

Catherine and Vincent sat side by side and looked at the pictures of her and her mother. They both laughed as she told him about the story behind the picture of mother and daughter apparently both covered with multiple large splotches of paint. ". . . and Daddy was laughing so hard that he nearly dropped the camera."

She gazed over at Vincent becoming serious. "Thank you, Vincent, for helping me to remember all the good times. Sometimes those memories get buried beneath the sorrow of Mother's absence; especially around this time of the year." She resolutely closed the album. "I'm hungry. What would you like on your pizza?"

"I don't know. I've never had a pizza before." He shrugged.

"Then it's about time you did." She jumped up and fetched a flyer from the kitchen. It was a menu from a local pizza place. She pointed to the list of possible toppings. "Which items on this list do you like?"

After he had pointed out the topping selections that interested him, she went to her phone and called.

"Yes I would like two pizzas please. One medium and . . ." She glanced over at Vincent. "One extra large." She listened for a moment then continued. "For the medium pizza I want the veggie lovers . . . On the large . . . make it a supreme with extra pepperoni and mushrooms." Another pause. "That will be fine." She gave them her address and hung up. "The pizzas will be here in a half hour." She cocked her head at him. "Would you like to watch a movie?"

He shrugged. "I suppose so." He wondered how she was going to manage it.

She pointed to a small shelf next to the television where he saw what he had taken to be paperback books. On closer inspection, they turned out to be boxes containing plastic cassettes that held reels of what looked like extra wide recording tape. He had seen an occasional movie and he had seen television at the occasional helper's home but the idea of movies in these small plastic cassettes was a new concept to him.

He picked out the one titled 'Singing in the Rain'. The movie was unknown to him but the title reminded him of the time he and Catherine had been caught in a rainstorm during a concert. The picture on the front of the box, of a man hanging from a lamppost in the rain with his umbrella closed, intrigued him.

Catherine turned on the television and placed the cassette into a machine that sat on the shelf below it. The machine said Beta II in large letters on its front. A small wave of _sadness_ passed through her as she stepped back from the machine. She looked at Vincent who had put his arm across her shoulder. "Daddy gave me this player the last Christmas before he died."

She started the machine and they sat down as the movie started with the silly image of three people wearing bright yellow rain gear, carrying umbrellas, and singing a bouncy tune all about singing in the rain and being happy again.

~ o ~

They had just come to the point in the movie where the Don Lockwood character had found the Kathy Seldon character dancing as part of the entertainment for the postproduction wrap party, when the phone rang. Catherine pressed a button which left the actors frozen in a rather comically undignified position and answered the phone. It was the lobby security guard announcing the arrival of the pizza delivery boy. She told the guard to send him up. Reluctantly Vincent took refuge in Catherine's bedroom while she took delivery of the pizza. It was the middle of the day so it was too risky to go out to the balcony and the small kitchen was not a very good hiding place.

Catherine set the pizza boxes on the coffee table then grabbed some glasses and tea from the kitchen as Vincent returned to the parlor. The pizzas smelled wonderful. Once they were again seated, she resumed the movie as they both dug into their lunch. Vincent was pleasantly surprised at how much he liked his pizza.

At one point, they both had to stop eating because they were laughing so hard at the "Make 'Em Laugh" dance number. Catherine leaned into Vincent, laying her head on his shoulder, as she munched on her pizza and watched the rest of the movie. Vincent responded by putting his arm around her shoulder. He was enjoying sitting there with Catherine cuddled up against his side.

Vincent soon became fascinated by what the story told of the difficulties faced in making the early sound movies. He was also surprised to discover that he was actually familiar with a couple of the songs in the movie. All during the sequence where Don was singing and dancing in the rain after Kathy told him she loved him, Vincent was remembering Catherine's joyous reaction when they had been caught in the rain. By the end of the movie, the melancholy that had been threatening to overwhelm her was gone.

It was still about five or six hours until sundown. Catherine pulled out a deck of cards and they spent a few hours playing fast-paced card games and talking about similarities and differences in both of their early childhood.

When dinnertime rolled around, Catherine again ordered out, this time for Chinese. They ate at the dining table and talked about some of their favorite foods when they were young. Then the subject shifted to William, and how he ran the tunnel kitchen. Vincent remarked to Catherine that he planned to discuss the concept of pizzas with William the next time he saw him. She responded by handing him the flyer with the list of toppings to show William. After the meal, Vincent helped her clean up the dining table.

It was still about an hour until sundown and Catherine picked up the book of Shakespeare's sonnets that Vincent had given her. "Vincent, would you read to me for a while?" She asked him as she held the book out to him.

"I would be happy to, Catherine." He responded as he took the book.

Vincent sat down and Catherine cuddled up against him then he began to read to her. He could feel her _contented_ _happiness_ over the bond as he read. He was pleased that he had managed to get her mind off her problems.

Vincent felt a tinge of _disappointment_ over the bond. He glanced at Catherine to see her looking over at the balcony doors. He followed her gaze and saw that it was dark out. He finished the poem that he had been reading and closed the book.

With a resigned sigh, Catherine stood up and then picked up Vincent's cloak from the adjacent chair. Vincent carefully set the book on the table beside the empty pizza boxes and stood up. He admitted to himself that his own disappointment, over the fact that the day was over, matched hers. He knew that he had gotten just as much out of this time together as she had.

Catherine handed his cloak to him and walked him out to the balcony. She threw her arms round him and hugged him tightly for a very long time. She looked up and smiled as their eyes met. "Thank you Vincent for spending the day with me and for helping me make it through last night." Her smile widened into a big grin. "I actually had a wonderful time today." She suddenly stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly on his lips. She had done this a few times since last Halloween but it still never failed to surprise him. She stepped back and watched as he took a moment to recover then slipped over the balcony wall and climbed up out of sight.

~ o ~

Father looked up as Vincent entered the library. "Welcome back, Vincent. How is Catherine feeling?"

"She is feeling much better now, Father." There was a slight wistfulness to his smile as Vincent continued. "I am also doing much better as well."

Father nodded. "That is good to know." He thought he understood.

Vincent smiled and placed his hand on Father's shoulder. "It was a most interesting and instructive day."

Father placed his hand over Vincent's, returning his smile. "So tell me, what did you and Catherine do all day today?"

**_THE END_**

* * *

'**Beauty and the Beast'** and its characters are owned by Witt-Thomas Productions and Republic Pictures. No infringement on copyrights is intended. This story is presented merely for the enjoyment of fans. Original concepts and story elements may be used by other authors as long as appropriate credit is given.


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